


On Being Worthy of Affection

by reduxcadeaux (erosindomita)



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Confessions, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Post-Time Skip, sylvain character study-ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23507872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erosindomita/pseuds/reduxcadeaux
Summary: "...Dimitri," he says, because Dimitri asked him to. "Dimitri. I'm pretty sure you don't realize it, but you can be devastatingly charming sometimes.""I could not possibly be as charming as you," Dimitri says seriously.Sylvain thinks he may combust. "Trust me, you've got me beat."//Dimitri invites Sylvain on a walk so that he can tell him he loves him.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 141





	On Being Worthy of Affection

The invitation had been innocuous enough. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for Dimitri to ask Sylvain to join him on a walk away from prying eyes in the rest of the palace, so when one evening he requested his company for a stroll through the gardens Sylvain hadn’t thought anything of it. Their conversation flows easily, discussing the day’s events as the sun sets in the sky, until Dimitri suddenly stops in his tracks.

“Something wrong?” Sylvain asks, cocking his head to one side.

“Sylvain,” Dimitri says, his gaze focused and determined. Even now, he’s still able to conjure up that battle wrought intensity without the pain and desperation of a raging war behind it. “Please listen to me.”  
  
Sylvain attempts an easy grin, one that comes out not quite as easy as he would’ve wanted. That… sounded serious. He wonders if something had come up in one of Dimitri’s endless private briefings on intelligence reports from across the kingdom. “Anything for you, your Majesty.”   
  
Dimitri nods in thanks, and a shudder runs down Sylvain’s spine when he steps closer. “While I endeavor to prove as much to you with my actions, I thought that it would… I would be remiss not to tell you how grateful I am to you. For you.”

“Your actions happen to do a pretty good job of that, you know,” Sylvain responds, his grin softening.

“Not good enough,” Dimitri states firmly, and Sylvain’s eyes widen slightly. “I have to be certain that you know just how vital you are to all of our efforts to better this kingdom. There cannot be a question of how dear you are to me.”

Sylvain starts to feel his heartbeat in his throat. This is dangerous. Dimitri is painfully earnest in his affections, he’s come to learn that firsthand, but somehow Sylvain had always managed to write it off as Dimitri relearning how to be around other people after his years of exile. Surely anyone would be touch starved after being so tortuously alone, wouldn’t they? Entirely understandable that he’d always stand so close, let his hand linger on Sylvain’s shoulder when he needed to get his attention, embrace him in greeting whenever they met… Of course he would. No reason for any of that to make his pulse quicken as it’s so traitorously doing now. 

“Aw, give yourself some credit. I know you like having me around,” he says with a practiced wink. “It’d be pretty dull otherwise, wouldn’t it?”  
  
Dimitri smiles at that, warm and honest. “Unbearably so. But that isn’t the extent of what I wish to convey to you.” He steps closer, inches separating them, and reaches forward to take one of Sylvain’s hands in both of his.

Alarms are sounding like cannonfire in the back of Sylvain’s head. “I would’ve gone into town for a manicure if I’d known you were proposing,” he jokes, hoping desperately to lighten the tone of this conversation.

“No, not proposing.” _Did his joke work?_ “Not yet, at least.” _It did not._

“If you needed help rehearsing for someone else then you could just say so,” he tries, weaker than before and pointedly ignoring the insinuation that Dimitri has considered proposing to him in the future. “We can get you ready to charm whatever suitors are lined up waiting to get their hands on you, don’t you worry.”  
  
“This is not practice for me to use on someone else, Sylvain,” Dimitri replies with a frown, his grip on Sylvain’s hand tightening somewhat. “If you don’t wish to hear me speak on this further, then so be it. But please know that I address you with the utmost sincerity.”

_That’s the problem,_ Sylvain thinks. “No, no, I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I’m all ears, your Majesty.”

Dimitri brings Sylvain’s hand up to his chest, holding it close like something delicate and precious. “You are one of my dearest friends. To have survived the horrors of war and the broken kingdom we were raised in, to live to see peace and hope return… It is a greater gift than I fear I may deserve.” Sylvain is ready to protest against that statement, but Dimitri continues. “And yet I find that with each day I spend with you, it grows easier to accept that perhaps I do deserve it. Each day it grows easier for me to accept that I need not shoulder my burdens alone.”

Sylvain watches the loveliest flush work it’s way across Dimitri’s face, up to the tips of his ears. He’s probably just as red himself. “Good,” he manages. “That’s good.”

Dimitri smiles again, soft and earnest. “For you, who has brought me such comfort,” he murmurs, bringing Sylvain’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his fingers. “I would move the skies above and the earth below if it would please you.”  
  
Time itself feels sticky and slow. It takes everything Sylvain has to focus on what Dimitri is saying, what he means, whether it’s even possible to escalate beyond a promise of moving heaven and earth for someone. The achingly sweet way he kissed his hand, _the way the king kissed his hand_ , is far and beyond the levels of sincere emotion Sylvain is able to process. And the worst part of it all is that he can’t even convince himself that Dimitri might be lying to him. It’s not as if the king of Fódlan could be trying to use his crest to gain status. This is just Dimitri, horribly sincere and laying himself bare.

“Give me a warning next time you wanna wax poetic at me,” Sylvain says with a nervous laugh, casting his gaze aside.

“It is the truth,” Dimitri replies. He hesitantly raises one hand, keeping Sylvain’s held in the other, and tilts Sylvain’s face towards him. “I love you.”

Sylvain stares. His heart might’ve stopped.

“Sylvain, are you alright?”  
  
He can’t tell if he’s breathing.

“...I apologize for being so forward. You are under no obligation to reciprocate.” Dimitri’s expression is twisting painfully, if subtly. “I did not mean to upset you. If… If it’s at all your concern, my sole motivation was to express my feelings to you.”

Dimitri's hand drops from Sylvain's face. _Wait, no._ "I appreciate that you allowed me the time to say what I wished." _Stop looking so sad._ "You have my word that I will not broach the subject again." He steps back, releasing Sylvain's hand and giving him a courteous nod. "Good evening."

Dimitri is turning and walking away.

Sylvain lurches forward and grabs his forearm. He can't let Dimitri run off like this. His mind is racing as he tries to figure out what he could possibly say that could get rid of that awful kicked puppy look he had on his face. “Wait.”

Dimitri stops. "You know I do not wish to be pitied," he says quietly, back still turned.

"I would never, your Majesty. Just… don't leave without hearing what I have to say." Sylvain gently tugs Dimitri back around, his heart wrenching at just how dejected and resigned he looks. He never wants to be the cause of that wounded expression ever again.

"Very well."

"I mean really, the most handsome man in Fódlan just told me he'd move the skies to make me happy. Can you blame me for needing a minute?" Sylvain laughs, the shaking of his hands belying his lighthearted tone. And oh, seeing the look on Dimitri's face shift from guarded and cautious to flustered confusion is one of the loveliest things he's ever seen. _Much_ better. That's how he should look around Sylvain.

"M-my apologies for rushing you, then," he says.

Sylvain nods and leans in a bit closer. "Apology accepted. Now, I… Your Majesty-"

"Dimitri."

"Huh?"

Dimitri's gaze regains some of its earlier steadfastness. "We are discussing personal matters. There is little need for any titles here. That aside… We have known each other for so long. If there is anyone who should dispense with formality around me, it is you."

Somehow that sounds as intimate as Dimitri outright saying he loves him. Even the idea of Dimitri's name in Sylvain's mouth feels foreign; he hasn't said it freely since they were children, and thinking about saying it now brings up memories of sharp smacks to the back of the head, hissed warnings to show respect.

"...Dimitri," he says, because Dimitri asked him to. "Dimitri. I'm pretty sure you don't realize it, but you can be devastatingly charming sometimes."

"I could not possibly be as charming as you," Dimitri says seriously.

Sylvain thinks he may combust. "Trust me, you've got me beat."

"We will agree to disagree, then."

"Yeah."

Dimitri still looks tense, as if he's steeling himself for a rejection that's yet to come. He seems unsure of what to do with his hands.

"So I… I owe you a proper answer, don't I?"

"You do not owe me anyth-"

Sylvain shakes his head. "You said I don't have to reciprocate, but it'd be rude of me not to respond at all.”

"...Very well. Go on."

Sylvain runs a hand through his hair. In moments of weakness, during the war, he’d let himself dream about something like this. He’d dreamt about what it must be like to have someone tell you they love you and to be able to believe them when they said it. It was mostly escapism, really, just a way to get out of his own head when the future was so uncertain. Things are different now that their lives aren’t on the line every single day. Things are different now that Dimitri isn’t constantly tormented by the dead. The heartfelt kindness he’d always held inside has reasserted itself as he’s assumed the throne, now tempered by age and experience. Sylvain has already seen the impact of Dimitri’s rule firsthand; full recovery from the ravages of war might still be on the horizon, but people have hope and faith in the future like they’ve never had before. It’s remarkable, just barely overshadowing how much Dimitri himself has grown as a person. He smiles more, shares his thoughts, seeks out the company of others… He’s certainly sought out Sylvain’s company, more so than at any other point in their lives. And Sylvain has readily offered up his counsel in service of his king, but more and more Dimitri will simply request that they dine together or that Sylvain join him in his study to spend a few quiet hours working side by side on paperwork. If Dimitri can’t be found, Sylvain will be the first one questioned on his whereabouts; if Sylvain has slipped away, Dimitri will have already been told where he’s gone. With all the time they’re spending together it’s no wonder Sylvain has started to look forward to Dimitri’s kind embraces, started to pick up on the subtler ways he expresses emotions, started to think of more and more ways he can earn Dimitri’s respect, more and more ways to make him smile...

Dimitri keeps shifting his weight, one leg and then the other. As regal and imposing as he could sometimes be, right now he looks more like a schoolchild who’s awaiting a scolding.

Sylvain can’t do this. "You can do better than me." He feels regret settling in the pit of his stomach the moment he says it, but he doesn’t stop. “Politically, socially, emotionally… Maybe not physically,” he tacks on with a halfhearted laugh. “But still.”

“Sylvain…”

“A-and look, I’m not saying this because I think you were lying, or... insincere, or something. You’re so genuine sometimes it hurts.” Sylvain really wishes his voice hadn’t cracked saying that.

“Sylvain.” Dimitri’s gaze hasn’t left the other’s face. 

“But I’m dead serious. The war is over and we’re friends and that’s all great, I’m- everyone is grateful that you’re with us again. That’s enough for me. I don’t deserve-”

“ _Sylvain._ Stop speaking and listen to me.”  
  
Sylvain stops, partially because he’s afraid of what he might say if he keeps going and partially because that tone of voice does something funny to his chest.

Dimitri inhales a shaking breath, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I need you to tell me whether or not you care for me in the same way that I have expressed that I do you. I am not interested in excuses as to why you might believe I should not hold these affections. And I swear to you that I will accept your answer, but I need it to be clear. Yes or no.”

He can’t do that. That’s too direct. Sylvain is good at flirting and teasing, he’s good at political strategy, he’s good at striking up conversations with anyone who gives him the time of day. He’s gotten so good at all of that precisely because he is not good at dealing with it when someone is able to burn down all of his flowery language and expose whatever it is he’s trying to hide. Most people can’t manage that, but Dimitri can.

“Please, Sylvain,” Dimitri says quietly. “Perhaps it was selfish of me to speak so candidly without warning. I apologize for that, but I will not apologize for loving you.”

Sylvain rubs his hand against his face, willing himself to maintain whatever semblance of composure he has left. “This would be a lot easier if you were actually selfish, damn it,” he mutters.

“...I fear that I do not understand.”

“Fine. Okay. My answer is yes, Dimitri.”  
  
Dimitri draws in a quick, sharp breath. He moves forward, but Sylvain holds up his hand to stop him from getting closer.

“You know how people still see me. Sure, it’s better than being back at the academy, but it could take years for me to earn a decent name for myself. And right now, you need all of the political goodwill you can get, your Majesty. I’m not worth the trouble, and you can do better than me,” he finishes, his hand dropping to his side. That’s… better than what he started with, at least.

“I see. So your objection is not that you dislike me, but that you fear your presence at my side would make it difficult to curry favor among nobles.”

Sylvain nods. “Sorry it took me so long to spit it out.”

Dimitri sighs and shakes his head. "As intelligent as you may be, you are remarkably foolish sometimes."

Sylvain blinks. "I don't follow."

"Is it not you who always reminds me that I need not take on all of my struggles alone? It is one of the things that I am most grateful to you for. Surely you can understand that I want to return that kindness."

Damn him, using Sylvain's own words against him like this. He doesn't want to admit that Dimitri makes perfect sense because that would make his carefully laid out objections meaningless, and then he might have to acknowledge the faint fluttering of hope in his chest. "There's a pretty big difference between me not wanting you to grieve by yourself and something that's going to impact how an entire kingdom runs, you-"

"I have a vested interest in seeing you succeed in your endeavors as Margrave Gautier, both as your king and as someone who cares for you," Dimitri says firmly. "I would not disrespect you so much as to attempt to do your work for you; I have full confidence in your abilities. But be it as king or just as myself… please allow me to support you. You do not need to prove your worth to me."

Sylvain can feel his face heating up. He doesn’t want to admit to himself just how much hearing that means to him. "You're getting way too good at arguing."

"It is easy when the subject at hand is this important."

It's getting harder and harder for Sylvain to maintain even the slightest distance from the unfairly kind, handsome man in front of him. "You know what you're getting yourself into, right?"

Dimitri smiles. "Perhaps I do not know everything that the future might hold, but I am sure that I can abide any hardship with you at my side."

Whatever holdouts of restraint he might've had snap, and Sylvain falls forward into Dimitri's arms. It's terrifying to confront just how badly he'd wanted something like this, and it's exhilarating to let himself have it. Dimitri's arms are so strong and warm and even though he's barely taller than him, right now Sylvain feels tiny and safe. He buries his face into Dimitri’s neck, focusing intently on the steady thumping of his pulse and letting it soothe the self doubt he still has lingering. He could get used to this. "Right back at you," he mumbles.

"Thank you," Dimitri breathes. He sounds close to tears. "Thank you so much, my beloved."

Oh, he was not emotionally prepared for pet names. He wasn't emotionally prepared for any of this, really, but hearing Dimitri call him _my beloved_ so… so reverently is almost too much for him to handle. It’s not as if he was completely unaware that Dimitri could be so sentimental, but knowing about it and having the full force of his sentimentality directed at him specifically are two very different things. Sylvain is at least versed in physical affection, so he presses a kiss to Dimitri's neck in response and relishes the little gasp it elicits. "You're pretty cute, you know that?" he says, grinning against his skin.

Dimitri hugs Sylvain closer. "You will have to forgive my inexperience."

Finally, something Sylvain has the upper hand in. "Inexperience, huh? Nothing we can't fix," he murmurs, gently nipping at the spot he kissed. He moves up to kiss along Dimitri's jaw, bringing his hand up to cup the back of his neck as he kisses his cheek and then, softly, his lips. When he pulls back, it's with a smug sense of pride that he takes in Dimitri's flustered expression. _Cute._

"I… That was…"

"Amazing? Wonderful? The best you've ever had?" Sylvain teases.

Dimitri glances away, face flushed. "It was very pleasant, but I do not have anything else to compare it against."

"...Wait, you've never kissed anyone before?"

Dimitri nods. "You are my first."

“I’m your first kiss?”  
  
“Yes, my beloved.”

_What._ Sylvain had figured Dimitri hadn’t had much time for affairs over the past few years, and he supposes he was never the type who’d bother entering a relationship with someone he didn’t truly care for, but still. “I could’ve sworn someone had gotten their hands on you back at Garreg Mach,” he muses.

“I do not think that anyone was interested in ‘getting their hands on me’ back then,” Dimitri says, and Sylvain resists rolling his eyes so he doesn’t get the wrong idea. Poor boy really never noticed that half the school had been interested. “And after that I was… preoccupied. It never crossed my mind until I realized that I was in love with you.”

Maybe it’s for the best that Dimitri is clueless about his charms, Sylvain decides, at least until he’s able to get used to hearing him say he loves him so casually. “Fair enough,” he says. “But you know what that means?”

“Hm?”

Sylvain grins and kisses him again, lingering a bit longer this time. “I get to be your second kiss.” He takes Dimitri’s face in his hands and kisses his cheek. “And your third.” His temple. “Your fourth.”

Dimitri is laughing now, low and sweet. “Truly an honor.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Sylvain says with a wink. He gently strokes his thumb over Dimitri’s cheekbone, committing the blissfully unguarded look of delight on his face to memory. It feels surreal knowing that he’s the reason _anyone_ could possibly be so at ease, let alone Dimitri. There’s still a quiet nagging at the back of his mind, something urging him to run, and yet… Maybe it really is better than he stays. Anything that makes Dimitri this happy can’t be all that bad. And even if he doubts that he deserves it, Sylvain can’t deny that the future seems so much brighter knowing that he won’t be going it alone. “Dimitri?”  
  
Dimitri smiles approvingly at the use of his name. “Yes, my dearest?” he says, covering one of Sylvain’s hands with his own and nuzzling his face into it, and that gesture might just be what does Sylvain in.

He can’t keel over yet, though. This is important. “I love you. I know I already said I feel the same way, but… I need to make sure you know I’m serious about this. About you. And I’m going to do everything I can to make all of this work, no matter how tough it gets.”

It isn’t clear who tears up first, but for the time they have, secluded away from the rest of the world together, Sylvain figures it doesn’t matter.

They have a future.

**Author's Note:**

> how long has it been since the war ended? is sylvain already margrave gautier? does he just live at the palace? no one knows least of all me
> 
> I have too many dimitri ships but dimivain in particular grabbed me by the throat recently and has not let me go. just as recent has been my blossoming interest in sylvain as a character, so writing a somewhat introspective take on dimivain was a natural course of action. they deserved an A support and I am bitter so I instead turn my energy towards evangelizing fe3h fandom with the good word of dimivain
> 
> shoutout to my dear friend juju who beta'd this fic as I wrote it love u bb <3


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